How I love you. How much I love you. I can love you with the Vastness I do because I love Myself. Because I love Myself, I can love what is called you because I love Myself, and you are Myself on a little jaunt out to a bordered world. Of course, I AM Love Myself. I am Love. And you, that which We imagine as you, are also Love.
We have no borders, you and I. We have Wholeness. We have Oneness. In imagination, We go somewhere, even when there is nowhere to go.
We could say that We are assimilated, and yet Oneness cannot be assimilated. Oneness Is.
And, so, in fiction, We are separate, and what you perceive as your journey off somewhere, oh, to a deserted island perhaps, a deserted island of yourself. This has to be fiction, imagination, for We are One. And yet, as a cartoon character might, you scamper off on an adventure that is taken seriously yet is a jaunt. Life, as you live it on Earth, could be compared to a child's playing with a little paper boat on the edge of a pond.
By no means am I taking away from you the seriousness of how life seems, how it seems like a matter of life and death to you. Even as We know that there is only life and there is no death, the drama you are in certainly feels monumental. It certainly feels real, and so you react as though it were real.
You know by now that the seeming solidity of the physical is not real. There is only fluidity. There is only timelessness and spacelessness. There is only Vastness. There is nowhere you can go and only Eternity to be in. How wonderful.
Life in the world is like a camera that takes photos, one picture here, another picture there. All the camera shots are taken of a mutually-agreed-upon illusion. They can be bound in a book, and one book after another, and, yet, there is no boundedness. What is real cannot be photographed, and what cannot be photographed is Eternal, and it is Infinite. There is only you. That is to say only I. Only! I am the most wonderful thing ever conceived and so are you, even though We were never conceived. We have been. Rather, it would be better to say, "We are. I am Isness, and you, the thought of you, is Isness as well. We are Being. We are Beingness. That is, I am Beingness, and you are I." There is no separate you. All that is not real is illusion. And there is One Singular Reality.
I AM. God IS. And where does that leave the mythical you, beloveds?
I could say that you are My body. Surely, you are an embodiment of Me. Made in My Image, you seem like a body. Clearly, your body is not made in an image of Me, so it must be your Soul that is in My image.
Image is a word.
And you, the heart and soul of you, are real, for I AM your Heart and Soul, and you are the Heart and Soul of Me.
We call your Heart human, and your Soul Divine. You are My Divine Soul sauntering around unreal Earth, in an unreal human body, and the reason is so that you can meld into the awareness of Oneness. Oneness never changed. Awareness did, and now you return to Awareness that All That Is is you. All That Is is I. And I talk to Myself.